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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29830428">the thing about innocence</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multikicker/pseuds/Multikicker'>Multikicker</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>we're not gonna quit (on you) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Blaseball (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Hey Shelled One meet me behind the Alrby's i swear i just wanna tALK, Houston Spies (Blaseball Team), Hurt/Comfort, Lift: 'hey hey no you don't just get to do that to our summer child', POV Alternating, POV Gerund Pantheocide, POV Wyatt Quitter, Panic Attacks, Possession, Post-Possession, Protective Tokyo Lift, Quitter: has Violence chosen for her upon waking up, Supportive Tokyo Lift, The Lift wasn't around to fight God but they will, Tokyo Lift (Blaseball Team), and they might not kill God but they're sure as hellmouth properly equipped for it, dead gods don't necessarily just go away like that, oh buddy they will, unfortunately</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:01:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,354</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29830428</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multikicker/pseuds/Multikicker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She's kept a watchful eye on Quitter since the beginning. They all have - they're all aware, on some level, that Quitter has scars and demons the likes of which the rest of them can't quite fathom, but...she can.</p><p>Out of all of them, she knows the breadth and scope of what a god can do to someone.</p><p>And as she watches Quitter crumple in slow motion, strings cut, she makes a promise, hand in hand with the rest of them, that for as long as Quitter is theirs, she's THEIRS. Hell or high water, win or lose, good odds or bad odds, gods or no gods.</p><p>Theirs.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wyatt Quitter &amp; Gerund Pantheocide, Wyatt Quitter &amp; Tokyo Lift</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>we're not gonna quit (on you) [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2192958</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the thing about innocence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>- is that it's fragile.<br/>What isn't fragile is the innocent.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They're losing. They're losing, which, okay, they <em>are</em> the youngest team in the ILB, so it kind of makes sense. They're lacking the pedigree of the others, the blessings and favours and they're pretty inexperienced, so... consistently losing isn't that much of a stretch.<br/>
<br/>
It's kind of to be expected, really. They're way out of their depth, shot into the Wild High on a wing and a prayer with big hearts and bigger shoes to fill, and out of all of them, Wyatt knows she's the only one with any truly noticeable amount of Games under her belt.<br/>
<br/>
The Lift<em> are</em> the <strike>fourth</strike> third team she's played for, after all. That's counting Light &amp; Sweet Electric Co. - because why <em>wouldn't</em> you? - and the Tacos. Gods <strong><strike>Not That One</strike></strong>, the Tacos.<br/>
<br/>
She misses them so much it hurts, a constant pang of loneliness that's always there under her skin, and yeah, sure, she's focusing on it, and yeah, sure, that's probably unhealthy but it's<em> something</em> she can focus on <strike>all the time</strike> in those moments when the night gets a <em>little</em> to quiet for comfort and yeah she's rambling right now but it's currently raining <strike>tasty </strike><strike>Peanuts</strike> peanuts and <strike>she minds that VERY much, so much it hurts because for a moment she's back <em>there,</em> a passenger in her own body despite herself</strike> she only minds it a bit.<br/>
<br/>
(She <em>has</em> to.)<br/>
<br/>
Breathe in, two, three, four; hold through seven; out 'til ten.<br/>
Eyes front, keep it together, Quitter.<br/>
<br/>
They're losing, and that's <em>fine</em>, it's fine, everything's <em>fine,</em> every<em>one's</em> <strong>fine.</strong> Wyatt Quitter is <strike>not fine</strike> fine, because she <em>has to be.</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
She steps up to the plate, scanning the outfield, and locks eyes with Scott.<br/>
<br/>
Scott, with his perfectly normal face and perfectly normal life and so-perfectly-normal-that-he's-immune-to-anything-construed-to-be-not-normal-<em>everything</em> meets her eyes and smiles his perfectly normal smile.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
And<br/>
<br/>
         she<br/>
<br/>
                  sees<br/>
<br/>
                            RED<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
There is a ringing in her ears.<br/>
<br/>
<strong><em>I'VE MISSED YOU, PODLING.<br/>
<br/>
</em></strong><strike>no no no no <em>no no nonononononononononon-<br/>
<br/>
</em></strike><em><strong>YES.<br/>
<br/>
</strong></em>A golden haze settles atop her mind - <em><strong>HONEY ROASTED</strong></em>, <strong>It</strong> supplies - and then she's moving and she doesn't want to, doesn't want to but <em>that's not how this goes,</em> and it's muddled and murky and she drifts off again, screaming, screaming, screaming only in her mind as Her-Not-Her starts moving on autopilot.<br/>
<br/>
Her-Not-Her is her and she is Her and She smiles.<br/>
<br/>
<strong><em>DON'T YOU WANT HIM TO SUFFER, PODLING?</em></strong><br/>
<br/>
And She <em>does.</em><br/>
<br/>
<strong><em>HAS HE ANY RIGHT TO JUDGE YOU?<br/>
<br/>
</em></strong>He does <em>not.</em><br/>
<br/>
<em><strong>YOU KNOW WHAT MUST BE DONE.<br/>
<br/>
</strong></em>She does, and her God approves.<br/>
<br/>
The ball soars through the air like it's moving through honey. Smiling, She swings the bat and intercepts it, projectile meeting tool with a -thwack- as She and her God roar as one.<br/>
<br/>
<strong><em>'T</em></strong><em>A<strong>S</strong>T<strong>E  </strong>T<strong>H</strong>E  <strong>I</strong>N<strong>F</strong>I<strong>N</strong>I<strong>T</strong>E<strong>!'<br/>
<br/>
</strong></em><br/>
<br/>
The haze lifts and she stares, horrified, at the rattling legume on the weedy turf.<br/>
<br/>
The God is dead. She's not going back, but <strong>She</strong> never left, and it was all for nothing, because she'll never be free, never escape, and she can't run far enough fast enough long enough-<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
On Home Plate, Wyatt Quitter falls apart.<br/>
<br/>
(Everything changes.)<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>She's kept a watchful eye on Quitter since the beginning. They all have - they're all aware, on some level, that Quitter has scars and demons the likes of which the rest of them can't quite fathom, but...she can.</p><p>Out of all of them, she knows the breadth and scope of what a god can do to someone.<br/>
<br/>
She knows, with a surety so sure that it may as well be part of her genetic makeup, that all those things Grandmother whispered to her in the twilight hours when Mother wasn't around to stop her are true. Puppets dancing on strings that aren't there, flickering shadows that move in ways nothing is supposed to move; thin air torn asunder to make way for things better left forgotten.<br/>
<br/>
Gerund Pantheocide knows the gods are not kind. It is the truth, her truth, despite her homeland's current godlessness (or perhaps because of it, there were reasons her people decided that deicide was the best course of action), and it has never stopped being so.<br/>
<br/>
So yes, she knows the signs, better than anyone, and it takes all of her self-control not to rush to Quitter's side, to hold her, piece her back together and swear that everything will be alright.<br/>
<br/>
There is an Umpire at the Plate, the Game must go on, and it isn't her place to intercede no matter how much she wants to.<br/>
<br/>
Not now.<br/>
<br/>
Not <em>yet.</em><br/>
<br/>
A voice calls out from across the dugout, and Lance rises next to her, expression pained, making to leave before she reaches out to snag his hand.<br/>
<br/>
'Ger?' he asks, voice unsteady; she lets go.<br/>
<br/>
'Bring her back, Serotonin,' she whispers, and, nodding, he steps away.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
She can't breathe.<br/>
<br/>
Everything is muted, the roar of the Fans a churning wave reduced to the barest whisper on the wind; she. <em>can't. breathe.</em><br/>
<br/>
It itches all over, and her nails bite at her skin as she desperately claws, make it stop, <em>please, </em>anyoneanyoneanyone-<br/>
<br/>
It just sits there, waiting. Mocking. Watching her drown again and again, the Pod sits there in all its profane glory.<br/>
<br/>
<em>'You did this,'</em> it croons, its cadence gleeful. <em>'Aren't you happy, Wyatt? This is what you wanted. This is who you </em>really <em>are.'</em><br/>
<br/>
The itching <em>burns,</em> and then she looks down to see her hands tear fragment of shell away, peppering the ground with the peanutty refuse.<br/>
<br/>
It doesn't register for a second, but she has already started screaming.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
'NONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO'<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
She tears faster, ripping through layer after layer with the ferocity of a Hades Tiger and throwing them aside, because it can't end like this, she won't be <strong>Her</strong> again, not again never again NO, she has to be in there somewhere, if only she can find herself and-<br/>
<br/>
'-itter!'<br/>
<br/>
Vaguely, she registers a presence next to her, a hand settling firmly on her shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
'Quitter, Wyatt, stop!'<br/>
<br/>
She's being shaken gently, another hand setting down and then the presence pulls her into a hug and her arms reflexively snap shut into the embrace as her vision clears.<br/>
<br/>
'Hey, hey, breathe with me, yeah? C'mon, Quitter, you got this, c'mon.'<br/>
<br/>
'Lance?'<br/>
<br/>
A watery chuckle is let out behind her, and he nods.<br/>
<br/>
'Yeah. Yeah, it's me.' The embrace is released, and he steps back to give her a weak smile. 'Welcome back, Quits.'<br/>
<br/>
One beat, two beat, her heart hammers in her chest.<br/>
<br/>
In, out, in, out; slowly, her breathing slows back to normal as it sinks in that she's safe, safe, safesafesafesafe.<br/>
<br/>
There is a suspicious dampness around her eyes and descending down her face, but Lance apparently doesn't see the need to comment on it, and that's fine with her. She just wants to get off this cursed plate and as far away from it as possible, and from the look on his face, he agrees.<br/>
<br/>
One last squeeze of her shoulder and then he's stepping away and lifting the bat with a resigned grace.<br/>
<br/>
One last glance, and one last smile, and then he turns to face the mound.<br/>
<br/>
'They're waiting for you, Quits. Go.'<br/>
<br/>
She goes.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Gerund breathes a sigh of relief as she watches their broken, beautiful, <em>brilliant</em> batter regain control of herself.<br/>
<br/>
On her opposite, Seraph's hand finds her own, and they clasp them together like a lifeline, watching as Lance pulls Quitter to her feet, hugs her, and sends her back.<br/>
<br/>
'She deserves better,' Seraph murmurs, her glow dimming with melancholy. 'So much better.'<br/>
<br/>
'We'll give it to her,' she states unequivocally. 'Anything. Everything. She's <em>ours</em><em>,</em> Freem. <em>Ours.</em>'<br/>
<br/>
Sinking to the bench on her empty side, Yusef wraps a hand around her shoulder, and the rest of the Lift group up to welcome their batter back with open arms.<br/>
<br/>
And as Wyatt Quitter ambles shakily into the dugout with a weary 'I'm home', they close ranks around her, and dare the world to try and take her away.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
For now, at least, the world is merciful.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Because the Lift may be rookies and they may not have faced the Shelled One with everyone else, but they'll cut a bitch who mess with their players.<br/>Because they adore Quitter and if anyone fucks with her they're going to get pursued with neon pink vengeance.</p><p>Basically, I crave the Lifts &amp; Quitter Hurt/Comfort content and I'm writing one-shots based on that.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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